


It Started with a Book

by Literarydissection



Category: British TV Celebrities RPF
Genre: ??????? - Freeform, Accidents, Awkwardness Is Cute, Drinking, Drinking(in general), Fluff, It'll Get There I Swear, Lead To Close Encounters, OC, Original Character - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Other, Reader is Reading, Reader-Insert, Tom Hiddleston Being A Gentleman, Tom Hiddleston's Jacket Save the Day, Tom Hiddleston/Reader - Freeform, Waiters & Waitresses, cute interactions, do i have enough tags yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 14:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19111219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarydissection/pseuds/Literarydissection
Summary: A kind stranger is the least of your worries.





	1. Chance Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: A quick little blurb I wrote. Feel free to send requests if you have any. You can also find me and my blurbs on tumblr @literaydissection

Silently, you wished for no man to disturb your book-induced coma as the contents filtered through your very being. The woven words made your fingers tingle and caused you to shift around as you turned one page followed by another.

It was incredible, breath-taking even. If you were daring enough to look up from the pages, you’d mutter aloud it’s genius, but in this world, escapes were limited and these precious moments on your commute were fleeting at best.

The subway smelt faintly of sweat and metal, with a hint of urine that you hadn’t particularly wanted to notice, and it swayed as the first and then second stop danced past the windows of the underground.  
A ding signaled the next stop and the end of your rushed rendezvous with your new best friend. Longing already seated itself in your belly, begging for one more page as you gently packed away the black embroidered book.

A brick wall might as well have been standing in your way.

You barely rose to your feet as a giant of a man wobbled his way past you, pushing you off balance and landing you square on your bottom. It hurt as you hit the ground, and what was worse—the faint warmth of liquid seeping through your trousers jostled you. A deep blush crept across the bridge of your nose and you tried to scramble to your feet, at least ten separate sets of eyes were on you now.

The bag at your side took that moment to betray you, tripping you up as you tried not to think about what you had just fallen into. Scrapping your hands on the metal ground in the process.  
A voice sounded beside the snickering teenage boy that had been watching the whole scene from a seat not that far away.

“Oh dear!” Concern laced the man’s voice but it only darkened your blush, a desperate attempt to scurry away before the man made it over failed miserably when your eyes drifted down to the assortment of stains you now wore. “Are you alright?”  
You didn’t answer. Tears were threatening to fight a thousand battles to spill across your cheeks and if you spoke, they’d win the war. Still, he didn’t touch you.

“Are you alright?” He repeated, the warmth in his voice made you glance and then take a shaky breath in. Placing your hands in front of you as if to steady yourself and then moving them up—with an intake of breath—and then down, with the exhale.  
“I’m fine.” You managed after a moment, trying your best to plaster on a smile.

“Are you sure?”

His eyes held galaxies, and the crystal-clear greyish blue that was nearly close enough to fall into, promised shadows of a world you could almost touch.

“Not really?”

“Well, I would expect not after that. Let me give you my jumper.”

You could have protested, you might of if—frankly—he hadn’t been so handsome, but he was. And now you were accepting a stranger’s clothes as a means to hide your stained clothes. You knotted the sleeves around your waist and looked up at the man again.

“Thank you,” you paused.

“Tom.” He provided.

“Tom.” You nodded as you said the name—his name—realizing the doors would be closing in just a moment.

“Thank you so much for the sweater! I owe you!” The word vomit bombarded Tom as one gigantic mess of a word as you darted off faster than you thought possible. Losing your job wasn’t worth the cute stranger, not when you had rent to pay amongst other things.

When you slide the jumper on, a few blocks after darting into the frigid May breeze, you inhaled some sort of sandalwood cologne, and knew you’d be thinking about Tom the next time you opened your book.

He’d make a perfect main character.


	2. Can I Take Your Order?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom had helped you earlier today, and now he's at your work. Now's the perfect time to return that sweater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I hadn't really planned for a second part but a lovely person requested it on Tumblr...So here it is! If you have a favorite work of mine you would like to see continued, let me know! I tend to respond quicker on my Tumblr.
> 
> Requested by: @fire-in-her-veinz over on Tumblr

The rest of your day had been rather uneventful and your feet hurt. Café chatter was beginning to edge you to the brink of sleep or insanity—and it was more than a little disconcerting that you couldn’t distinguish the difference between the two.

It was almost 5 o’clock now and you had agreed to work a double, so dinner service was at your mercy. Too many customers came and went, and your brain was straining to remember regular customers’ names today, but everyone was leaving with a smile. Even though you felt like warmed road-kill, the work was decent and most of the people were nice.

Your manager had lent you a spare uniform to change into when you had arrived, saying that he couldn’t have his waitresses looking like they were the ones slaughtering the livestock for the kitchen. It was a size too big but he had also lent you a spare belt, the kind with metallic holes that spanned its length, and thankfully the foreign liquid you had fallen into was just some sort of juice, or at least it smelt like some sort of juice.

You headed over to your last table of the night. It was about 8 o’clock now, and James wasn’t going to let you stay much longer. He was worried about your health, and he “didn’t want to deal with the paperwork if you died on shift.”

You had laughed and he had said he was serious but you knew he was a wee bit dramatic at the best of times.

“Hello, welcome to Shamrock’s. I’ll be your server today; can I get you started with any of our locally crafted beers?”

You smiled brightly at the three men seated before you, not really registering their faces until your eyes met with bluish-greyish infinity pool eyes.

“Hey,” you leaned to the side and tilted your head a little, “you’re the guy that helped me in the subway. Thank you for that.”

His lips twitched at the corners and he nodded, “It was the least I can do.”

“Well, don’t leave without getting your sweater back. Who knows when I’ll see you next.”

Tom nodded, but didn’t say too much else. Looking a little bit hungry, but everyone always looked a little bit hungry when they came in. 

The two men seated around the table with Tom said hello, and after some pleasantries proceeded to order two beers and an ice water. Shamrock’s famous Banana Bread Beer was always an easy sell.

“Got it, an ice water and two triple Bs. I’ll go get those drinks for you boys and I’ll tell you all about the specials when I get back.”

The men all nodded as you turned around and headed off to place the order, bumping into James and whispering urgently, “That guy right there, he’s the guy that helped me on the underground.”

James looked over at the table, “Curly haired bloke?”

“Yeah that’s the one.”

“Did he order a drink?”

“Water.”

James hummed a little, “Alright, get their drinks in, and keep ‘em happy.”

“When don’t I?”

“Eh, good point. Keep it up, oh and before you leave tonight, I wanna talk to you.”

Your face twisted with a tad bit of concern, “About what?”

“Don’t worry Pretty Love. You aren’t in trouble.”

Taking his words at face value was hard, not because he was a liar or creep, but because ten thousand what ifs were hard to combat in a sleep deprived state. You crossed the few feet between yourself and the bar, leaning over the counter to place the order with the bartender.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll get it right up for you darling.”

Looking across the brightly lit bar you saw James making small talk with Tom’s table. Tom seemed interested in the conversation, he had shifted a little to face James head-on, and they were laughing but with the low hum in the restaurant, you wouldn’t have been able to make out exactly what they were saying even if you had superhuman abilities.

“Drinks ready love.”

“Thanks Carla.” You smiled, balancing the beers on your tray.

A second later you were heading over there, placing drinks in front of everyone as James got ready to walk away. “Just let us know if there is anything you need.”

“Of course,” Tom said with a smile, “Thank you.”

James headed off to give you the space you needed to work the table. You appreciated his lack of hovering.

More small talk passed between you and the table and you told them about the specials for that night. Everything else was a breeze. The night flew by and you didn’t mind staying a little bit later to make sure they were taken care of. A little kindness went a long way and the big tip didn’t hurt either.

You also remembered—just barely—to return Tom’s sweater. The whole night he hadn’t spoken much, almost as though he were out of his element, but you weren’t going to make many assumptions about a stranger. For all you knew, he could have been tired. It was pretty obvious that you were.

But something just hadn’t felt right, like his mind was a million miles away and there wasn’t a way for him to get back to the present. As you approached, you coughed into your arm. When he looked at you the hum died down for a second and you forgot why you were there. Your stomach flipped circles and you squeezed the sweater in your hands, remembering why you had approached him in the first place.

“Hey, um, your sweater.” You held up the article of clothing, looking away quickly as your cheeks burned for the second time during an encounter with the gorgeous stranger. “Sorry I didn’t have time to wash it, but I don’t think it stained.”

“It’s fine.” He took the sweater and looked at it for a long moment before meeting your gaze. Apparently enraptured by something you obviously couldn’t see. Maybe it had something to do with your hair, or your face, or the dark bags under your eyes because you were sure they were deeper now than they had been this morning.

“What book were you reading this morning?” He asked, draping the sweater over one of his arms, holding your gaze for what felt like a century.

“What?”

“The book. You seemed to be rather bewitched, and I was curious if it was something I had read before.”

“Oh yeah! It’s great, and I haven’t been able to put it down.” You rummaged around in your bag for a moment, already ready to go home. James had said he’d give you a ride home to avoid having to take a Taxi again.

You removed the slightly torn copy of an inky black book from your bag. A beautiful black raven encompassed a sliver stag but part of the stag had been stained with the juice.

“Here,” you spoke as you offered him your copy, “I’ll grab another one tomorrow. You should read it.”

He shook his head, attempting to protest before you took a half-step forward and held it out a little further, “I insist.”

He reluctantly took the book, “Thank you.”

You grinned, throwing in the last bit of energy you had, “No, thank you. Goodbye Tom, I’ll see you around.”

You waved as you headed off, tucking your hands into your pockets as you headed out into the night air, crisp as it was you didn’t mind too much. The chill was probably the only thing keeping you awake.

You spotted James standing by his car with his cellphone pressed against his ear, and then looked back in time to see Tom leaving with his friends. One of them was a little more than tipsy and was being supported by the other while Tom rushed to get the car door open.

Smiling a little more, you rushed off, not wanting to keep your boss waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @literarydissection


End file.
